


She's Always A Lady

by orphan_account



Category: Olympics RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Dirty Talk, Genderbending, Genderplay, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nail Polish, Pet Names, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-06 10:16:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1854340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan notices something different about Michael moments before a big race. It leads to sexy!times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan notices something different about Michael moments before a big race. It leads to sexy!times.

* * *

It starts out with something so simple, so innocuous that no one really notices. Well, no one except Ryan because Ryan is ninja like that. He carefully cultivates his laid-back, frat boy, always stoned, persona so that no one notices how smart he is. Why does he do this?

Because he likes to fuck with people.

He takes after his mother in that, having inherited her cruel sense of humor. He imagines that if someone were to ask her why she was such a trickster she’d reply by saying, “Well, a girl’s gotta have her fun.”

But back to the story.

Ryan saunters into the ready room like a king surveying his kingdom and his eyes automatically zoom in on Michael because that’s just how Ryan’s brain works. Eat. Sleep. Swim. Michael. Not necessarily in that order. That’s been his main mode of operation since the first time he saw the other swimmer.

Back then the Baltimore native was newly turned nineteen with pale pink lips, a slightly crooked smile, big ears that stuck out past his hair, and the sweetest set of brown bambi eyes Ryan had ever seen in his life. It’s fair to say that Ryan’s heart pretty much jumped out of his chest and straight into Michael’s hands right then and there. Speaking of Michael’s hands, or rather his fingernails, which is what currently holds Ryan’s attention.

Michael’s fingernails are painted.

And not in an _“I Lost A Bet”_ way but more of an _“I’m Just Trying To See If I Can Get Away With This”_ kind of way. The polish itself is a subtle tint of pink practically the same color of a naked nail bed but with tiny baby blue flecks of glitter. It suits Michael quite well. Much like the younger swimmer it is understated, but still somewhat obvious. Just feminine enough to be out of place but requiring a double-take to really be noticed.

Ryan looks back up and sees that  Michael’s got his earbuds in and his head is slowly bobbing to the beat of some song Ryan’s sure is probably a Lil Wayne track. Michael is obviously in the zone. Everyone else in the ready room is keeping their distance, more out of fear than respect. It’s practically the eleventh commandment in their sport.

**_Thou shalt not disturbeth Michael Phelps as he listeneth to Lil Wayne._ **

The little devil on Ryan’s shoulder is practically going into seizures with all the possibilities for mischief at such a time as this. The little angel that’s supposed to occupy the other shoulder is nowhere to be found. Ryan’s feet carry him over to where Michael is standing and step up behind the other swimmer seemingly of their own volition.

Ryan feels his arms wrapping themselves around Michael’s waist but there’s nothing he can do to stop it. He feels Michael tense up as his traitorous lips plant a kiss in the space behind Michael’s left ear. “Hey, Baby Girl,” Ryan hears himself purr.

Michael instantly relaxes into Ryan’s hold and takes out his earbuds;  says “Hey, Ry,” in a sleepy murmur as he lets his head fall back and rest on Ryan’s shoulder. That’s when the lightbulb goes off in Ryan’s head.

Michael was hoping someone would notice.

He wanted someone to say something.

And he wanted that person to be Ryan.

“Is this why you skipped out on breakfast?” Ryan questions, taking hold of one of Michael’s hands, voice quiet enough for only Michael to hear. “Had to go get your nails done and get yourself all pretty for me? Huh, Baby Girl?”

“Oh, God, don’t call me that,” Michael whispers desperately. “You’re making me hard and I have a race to swim in, like, two minutes.”

“That’s not my fault now is it?” Ryan counters, pulling Michael even closer. He grinds his half erect cock against the curve of Michael’s ass, says, “And if I’m not mistaken, I also have a race to swim in two minutes.”

“Well, I guess that makes us both S.O.L.” Michael says as he pushes his hips back into Ryan’s. Just then a race official pops his head inside the door of the ready room and motions for the swimmers to line up so they all can make their way to the pool deck.

  
“We’ll finish this later, Baby Girl,” Ryan hisses as he’s forced to let go of Michael and head to his spot in line. “That’s a fuckin’ promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan notices something different about Michael moments before a big race. It leads to sexy!times.

* * *

Ryan keeps his distance after the race, knowing Michael needs time to get out of that competition headspace he zones into when he swims. He goes through his own cool down routine and heads back to their shared room in the Village, snagging a couple of bottles of the cherry soda Michael’s been raving about since they got here from the vending machine in the corridor. Ryan then goes about setting the mood.

Michael is an amazing lover, but over the years Ryan has discovered that it takes a lot to get him there. With Michael, things have to be just right or it’s not gonna happen. Love-making is something Michael takes almost as seriously as swimming and in his opinion, if it’s not gonna be the best experience it can be, it’s not worth doing in the first place. Where other guys might think that’s too much like being with a finicky chick, Ryan honestly doesn’t mind. He likes doing these things for Michael; it makes him feel worthy of Michael’s affections. So Ryan straightens up the room.

He rearranges the furniture, pushes the two twin mattresses together and remakes them as one larger bed. He opens the window but not the blinds so a cool breeze floats throughout the room without letting anyone outside see what’s going on inside the room itself. He fiddles with his iPod, pulls up a playlist and hooks it up to the Bose portable speaker he brought with him from home. He presses play, listens for a moment as the first rifts of _Walk On The Wild Side_ by Lou Reed slither out of the speaker. Ryan turns off the lights and strikes up a match. He watches as it gives life to a few strategically placed candles. The smell of sandalwood and ginger fills the air. Michael’s favorite.

Ryan arranges the soda bottles on top of the dresser, pulls a box of Michael’s favorite chocolates out from where he stashed them when they first got to London and sets those beside the sodas along with a bright pink bendy straw he swiped from the dining hall for the drinks. Ryan steps into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, then meanders back into the bedroom where he changes into a pair of grey sleep pants and a well-worn white undershirt. Finally, he sits on the edge of the bed and waits.

\--

Michael makes his way to his and Ryan’s room with impeccable timing; showing up only about fifteen minutes after Ryan’s done readying the room for the night ahead. He steps into the dimly lit room, sets his kit bag down by the door, lets it slide closed behind him. He looks around and smiles, proud that Ryan’s been so considerate as to do all this for him.

“Hey, Baby Girl,” Ryan greets him as he gets up from the bed, crowds Michael up against the closed door. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Michael answers, his voice gone soft and breathy. “Better now that I’m with you.” This is the part of their relationship that Michael enjoys the most. Ryan brings something out of him no one else ever has. Ryan helps him let go and be that other person he hides deep, down inside. In these moments, when he’s alone with Ryan, he gets to be Baby Girl.

“Make yourself comfy, Baby Girl,” Ryan says, takes Michael by the hand and leads him to sit on the bed. He turns to the dresser, cracks open one of the cherry sodas and puts in the pink bendy straw, bending it just so and scooping up the box of chocolates as well. He turns around and shows Michael what he’s holding. “I got you a little something.”

“Thanks, Ry” Michael says sweetly as he accepts the gifts. He sips at his soda and munches a few chocolates while Ryan goes down on his knees before the other swimmer, carefully removing Michael’s shoes and socks and moving them out of the way.

“What do you want to do tonight, Baby Girl?” Ryan asks once he’s back on the bed, arms wrapped around Michael’s midsection.

“Well, first I wanna finish my soda pop and my chocolate… and then I want you to take off my clothes and lay me down on this bed, spread my legs and French kiss my cunt until I gush all over your face” Michael says nonchalantly, as if describing the weather.

Ryan cock goes from half hard to rock solid in about three seconds and he groans, mutters, “Baby Girl, you’re gonna kill me one of these days. Where’d my pretty little girl learn to talk like a whore?”

“I’ve read a few editions of _Hustler_ in my time,” Michael smiles, cuts his eyes at Ryan seductively. “And you’ll be amazed at what a girl can find on the internet these days.”

“Is that so?” Ryan quirks an eyebrow. “Maybe I should put up some firewalls on your laptop, then, huh?”

“Wouldn’t help much,” Michael replies. “I’d still have my imagination and Lord knows there’s no end to what I could think up. I lead a very rich fantasy life.”

“I guess I’ll just have to start makin’ some of those fantasies into realities, won’t I?” Ryan smirks.

“Yeah,” Michael smirks right back. “I guess you will.”

\--

It doesn’t take much doing on Ryan’s part to get Michael naked and spread out on the bed. Michael gladly sheds his clothes after he’s had his fill of soda and chocolate, props himself up against the pillows and lets his legs fall open after shoving one pillow under his hips. Michael pulls his feet up until they’re flat on the bed, puts his hand on his knees and pushes them apart until Ryan can see all of him. His hard, leaking cock and the heavy weight of his sack as well as the rosy pink pucker of his entrance.

“Goddamn,” Ryan swears. “You get prettier every time we do this. Baby Girl, you’re fuckin’ beautiful. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” Michael smiles, glowing with the praise he’s receiving. His face goes serious for a moment, eyes blazing with a kind of secret fire only Ryan gets to see. He says. “Get over here and lick me.”

“You’ll never have to tell me twice,” Ryan chuckles. He takes off his shirt, lets it fall to the floor along with his sleep pants and crawls up Michael’s naked body until he’s eye to eye with his lover. He trails his fingertips up and down the insides of Michael’s thighs as their lips meet in a swelteringly hot kiss. They stay like that for a while, Michael beginning to squirm a little because Ryan won’t put his hands or his mouth where Michael really needs it.

“Ry, come on,” Michael urges when they finally pull apart. “No teasing. Not tonight.”

“Okay, Baby Girl,” Ryan smiles, slithers down the bed a little bit. He sits up on his elbows and encourages Michael to recline even further onto the pillow beneath him. Then Ryan sets about the task at hand. He starts by peppering kisses down the crease of Michael's bottom, each one getting closer to Michael’s center. Ryan then begins to use his tongue, questing little licks around the furl of Michael’s entrance. Above him Michael gets a hold on one of Ryan’s ears and twists it a little in warning.

“I. Said. No. Teasing.” Michael grates. “Now tongue fuck my pussy or I’ll find someone else to do it.”

“Christ, Baby Girl,” Ryan hisses at the pain. “You’re a fuckin’ bitch when you’re horny.”

“Yeah, but I’m your bitch,” Michael counters. “And you love it.”

“Oh, yes I do,” Ryan confirms. Then he really gets down to business; licking up and into Michael with all the dexterity his tongue could manage. He feels Michael set a hand to the back of his neck and instantly knows what his lover wants. Ryan spears his tongue into Michael’s quivering hole as far as it will go and stays there, lets Michael ride his face the way he wants to. All the while Ryan hears the positively filthy things pouring out of Michael’s mouth and it’s so hot it has Ryan grinding himself off against the bed in an effort to bring some relief to his aching, neglected cock.

“Fuck yeah, just like that,” Michael moans. “Eat my cunt. Eat me out ‘til I fuckin’ squirt.”

Ryan feels it when Michael starts to come; his rim tightens around Ryan’s tongue and Michael lets out a wail of pure ecstasy. Ryan reaches up and grasps Michael’s cock, stroking him as he shoots hot spurts of come all over his stomach. A little bit of it lands in Ryan’s hair but he doesn’t even care because watching Michael’s hard body seize up in orgasm is mesmerizing: muscles clenching and flexing, pale skin flushing red, back arching into an almost impossible curve. It’s over too soon for Ryan’s liking but he strokes Michael through the aftershocks and crawls back up Michael’s body to give him a kiss and let him taste himself of Ryan’s tongue.

“Mmmm,” Michael moans against Ryan’s mouth. He pulls out of the kiss and snakes a hand down in between them, taking hold of Ryan’s cock. Michael smiles mischievously, says, “Lemme take care of you.”

It doesn’t take much. Ryan’s so wound up from everything that he comes after only a few tight strokes, orgasm so strong it almost hurts. He clenches his jaw and fucks up into Michael’s hand as he spills into the space between their stomachs. It ends with one last thrust and Michael twisting his hand around the head of Ryan’s cock, wringing every last drop of come out of him. Then they collapse against each other, completely and utterly sated.

“Amazing what a little nail polish can lead to, huh?” Michael says in a fucked out tone.

“You have no idea, Baby Girl,” Ryan replies, voice just as wrecked. “No idea at all.”


End file.
